Fighting Through The Reflections
by calla lilly rose
Summary: Sodapop has a choice.  He can accept what has happened or he can exist without living.  Either way, he'll never be a part of the family again.
1. Feeling The Fall

S.E. Hinton owns the outsiders. I own nothing. Really.

**Fighting Through The Reflections **

Chapter One

**Feeling The Fall**

XXX

"Down! Everybody take cover!"

"Shit, man! Fuck!"

"Where the hell are they?"

Bullets flew by, the whizzing noise they made more like a swarm of bees. The platoon dropped to the ground, weapons at the ready. A few soldiers peeked at the thicket ten to twenty meters away where the barrage of gunfire came from, returning some bullets into the hailstorm while the rest cursed, prayed, and hunkered down for the firefight.

Sodapop's eyes strained to see where the enemy lay. He'd been in country nearly five months and had been in a few firefights already, always terrified of what was happening around him. Of the six other newbies that came with him, just him and Murktaw were left. The first guy got killed before he really had his duffel bag unpacked, that first night in country. The platoon leader, his sergeant who had a four inch scar over his right cheek from where a bullet had grazed him, just shoved the kid's few belongings back into the duffel and tied it with a red knot, ready to go back along with his body to his unfortunate young wife. Watching those things get packed up again so soon after arriving left Sodapop with a funny feeling in his stomach. The platoon leader, noticing Sodapop watching him, muttered simply, "could'a been you, kid."

Sodapop felt himself pale, knowing that was true. The sergeant shouldered the bag and left the tent. Sodapop followed a few seconds later when his stomach turned and he needed somewhere to puke. He heard some laughter behind him as he heaved his lunch good-bye.

"Hey look! Another newbie's tossing his cookies!" someone laughingly teased. Sodapop didn't turn to see who.

Since then, the newbies watched everything the seasoned grunts did. Sodapop especially. He had too many things back home to get to, things he'd left unfinished when the letter came that Tuesday so many months ago, drafting him into service. As long as he made it, day by day, one day after another, he'd eventually go home again. Home to his brothers. Home to his friends. Home to his new girlfriend, Tina. Home to cars and music and good food and...

"Curtis, damn it boy, get your head -"

T-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. Automatic rifle fire drowned out what the guy was screaming at him. Sodapop tried to duck but something was suddenly blocking his vision. It was red and wet, dripping from his hair onto his face. _I guess I got grazed, like Sergeant did_, he thought. _Gonna be one hell of a tuff scar!_

"Curtis! Aww fuck man! Medic!" the guy screamed as a barrage of gunfire as well as a grenade exploded into the thicket. The shooting stopped immediately and a strange, eerie quiet fell over the place.

Then...

"How many?" someone screamed.

"Medic!" came shouts from here and there.

Sodapop felt hands on him, his clothes being tugged on and his helmet being removed. "Christ, he's bleeding bad!" It was a borrowed helmet, his was stolen but Sergeant found him another that would do until a new one arrived.

"Pressure! Put pressure on it!" someone called out.

"I am, God damn it! It ain't helping!" screamed someone else.

"He's losing too much!" the first voice screamed again. "Do something!"

"Curtissssssssss!" yelled another.

Sodapop felt funny, like he was laying in a tub of marshmallow fluff. The dull pain in his head faded along with the voices around him. The hands pulling and tugging on him seemed to fade away. The breeze was warm but comfortable, like an early summer day. Sodapop sighed. All he wanted to do was take off his boots and socks, chuck off his fatigues and go lay in the grass. Not this grass. Nup, he wanted the grass by the lake back home. That grass was soft. Soft and green and smelled clean. Grass that he used to lay on years ago with Sandy, watching the clouds float by. Clouds that looked like cars or planes or even Santa in his sleigh.

He closed his eyes, dreaming of that place. He could almost feel the tickling blades under him as the soft, gentle breeze warmed his skin.

_I just want to go home_, he thought.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	2. Missing The Feeling

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 2

**Missing The Feeling**

**XXX**

"Man, that had to have been one massive pain killer they gave me." I groaned as I sat up. "Hey Rocco, got any smokes? I can't find mine."

Rocco, or rather Eric Volterneerie - if I wanted to be technical about it, ignored me. I had no idea how banged up I was, seeing as how I didn't remember getting back to my bunk. But there had been many nights like that for all of us. Booze and drugs fought off the boredom for most of the guys who weren't on watch or patrol. I stuck to the booze leaving the harder stuff alone. The guys all said I'd eventually loose my drug cherry if I stayed in country long enough. Some guys were on their second tour, but I couldn't understand anyone wanting to volunteer for this shit.

"C'mon man, I know I've been bummin' more off you than I should, but just one more? For old times sake?" I tossed in my award winning smile hoping that would do the trick, but he just sat on his bunk staring at me without saying a word. Before I could say more the tent opened and Sarge came in with one of the supply clerks.

"Better get this over with. Rocco, you stoned?"

Rocco looked up sharply. "No, Sarge. I just... It's only..."

"Don't trip over your own tongue, Rocco. He wasn't the first, won't be the last. Now, you staying or not? I got to get his stuff ready for transport. Bird'll be here soon."

Rocco looked at me again and stood up, rubbed his stubbly chin and walked out.

"Hey man, hold up!" I called as I went to follow him. "Sarge," I said in greeting as I trotted around the man. Never could tell what mood he'd be in as he lives in a perpetual pissy state ever since the day I showed up. "Hey... Rocco! Hold it, man! Shoot, where ya going? What's wrong?"

Rocco ignored me, getting lost in the crowd faster than I could keep up. I felt my head figuring I had to have taken a hit somewhere. Knowing the medics, they probably had me on light duty for a few days. That meant I got to hang out on base while the rest of the platoon went out on patrols. I didn't feel no bandage but that didn't mean nothing. Whatever the case, I was ready for a break. Before the firefight we'd been out on patrol for 48 hours straight hunting down VC snipers that had been taking out our perimeter one at a time. I knew I stunk, was filthier than a sewer rat, and was bone tired. After cleaning up I planned to tackle some z's before dealing with my belated letters home.

I always had a ton of mail to catch up on. Thanks to the sporadic mail system out here mail was spotty. I'd get letters all out of order and sometimes they didn't make sense until other letters arrived to fill in the gaps. Still, they were my only links home and I cherished every one. Between Ponyboy, Darry, and the guys, I got at least six a week. I was way overdue for responses but trying to stay alive keeps me from writing back. And from what the latest goings-on back home seemed to say, I really needed to get something mailed back - and soon.

Looks like Ponyboy and Darry were at it again. Ponyboy'd sent some complaining again about Darry ragging him about his grades and he was getting real fed up with it. Darry never says nothing about nothing... figuring either I didn't need to know or didn't need to be bothered with it, and that he could handle everything on his own. He was wrong on both counts but was too mule-headed to consider it. I knew they weren't gonna get along real tight what with me being gone, but I'd hoped Darry would realize Ponyboy wasn't perfect and occasional dips in his grades weren't going to keep him from going to some good schools after graduation. I'd have to send one letter to Darry telling him once again to back off, and another letter to Ponyboy telling him to stop dragging his butt and buckle down. _Oh those two, _I thought with a smile,_ they ain't never gonna see eye to eye._

I stopped and scanned the crowd but couldn't find Rocco, then glanced at the line for the showers. It wasn't too bad so I headed back to my bunk to get my shampoo kit. Sarge and the clerk were just leaving, a duffel bag hoisted on Sarge's shoulder. "I'll take it over, you're dismissed," Sarge said to the clerk, who nodded and left. He didn't look at me as he adjusted the bag and went on his way. I gawked a minute, reminded of the way Darry's always hauling roofing supplies at his work too.

Inside, I was stunned at what I saw. All my things were gone. My bedding, the picture frame I had of Darry and Ponyboy; even my footlocker had been emptied of my uniforms and other personal stuff. A fresh coat of green paint covered my name, stenciled on the side of the box.

Something_ really _wasn't right.

"Ain't real," I said aloud, feeling suddenly real shaky. "It ain't." But somewhere down deep, I had a real bad feeling about all this. I turned to find Sarge, ready to demand some answers – rank be damned. I found him heading into the medical bunker.

"Here's his belongings." Sarge said, dropping the bag and handing over an inventory sheet to the senior medical officer. "When's the chopper coming?"

The medical officer turned and looked at the clock. "Soon, as long as there's no need to call it elsewhere. His stuff'll be fine, just leave it there with the others. As long as it's tagged with his name and serial number, it'll be on the bird with him."

Sarge nodded but didn't move. The MO put his pen down.

"Anything else I can do, Sergeant?"

"No sir. I just wanted to make sure he's squared away."

The MO gave a faint smile. "For you, that's a new one. I take it you actually liked this kid?"

Sarge's back stiffened. "Hell no," he said with conviction. "I don't take a liking to any of these runts. You know that."

The MO looked at the inventory papers. "Says here he's from Tulsa. Aren't you from Tulsa, Sergeant?"

"Owasso." Sarge said with a mild softness to his tone. "Not far from Tulsa." The MO's eyes gave a knowing glance. "But far enough," Sarge rebuffed, stronger again. I was surprised. I didn't know Sarge was from somewhere so close to me. "Make sure his things go with him. You need me to sign anything else? If not, I got other things to do."

"No, Sergeant, I can take it from here."

Sarge left and for a moment I felt like I should go with him. I wanted answers about what was going on but right then thoughts of home swirled in my head. I wanted to ask about home, about Owasso, ask him if he'd ever been to Bryler Park, if he'd eaten at The Dingo, anything; but I missed my chance as Sarge slipped out the door.

"Oh me oh my," the MO said softly to himself. "Kid, I think for once he actually liked someone. Too bad this turned out the way it did." He looked over the inventory again and smiled. "Sodapop, huh? Now how'd you get a name like that?"

I smiled, glad at least someone wasn't playing this sick game. "My dad gave it to me. It may be an unusual name, but that's what made it more special. Me and my brother, Ponyboy, we both love our names. I got mine 'cause Mom got real sick when she was pregnant, and Dad said the only thing that settled her stomach was something with carbonated water in it. Mom used to say Dad would rub her belly and call me his little sodapop. When I was born, the name stuck."

I smiled at the memory but he didn't seem impressed. He also didn't seem to hear me, didn't acknowledge my presence, and didn't ask anything else. He stuck one copy of the inventory in his file, stuck another on my duffel and went into another room with the third. I didn't follow. I didn't want to see what was back there. _I'm stoned_, I kept telling myself. _Rocco or Teter did this to me, always saying they'd get me high somehow. This'll wear off and things'll be fine. _I really felt like I should be sweating, as shaky as I was.

Later, the door opened. "Doc, the chopper's here. Were ready to start moving the bodies."

"Fine, thanks corporal," the doc said, coming back up front. "I have ten in the back."

"Just ten?"

The MO nodded. "It was a good week."

The corporal and a few others came in and went to the back. They took their cargo to the helicopter then returned for the duffels, mine included. I had to follow my things, no matter where they went, so I followed along and hopped on the bird too. One of the guys shut the side door and the pilot started us up.

"All secure back there?" he asked.

"Yes sir," me and the door gunner answered at the same time, our voices overlapping. Steve and me used to do that back when I was in school. Annoying the staff was fun. Shoot, everything back then was fun compared to this. I smiled as the bird started to lift but as we broke free of the ground something didn't feel right. The usual lurch of take off was gone. Somehow I had the feeling I wouldn't be coming back.

That somehow, my time here was over.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Please forgive typo's.


	3. Cup O' Tea

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 3

**Cup O' Tea**

XXX

We landed and took off again twice more, each time the number of black body bags and accompanying duffels increased. I'd tried talking to a few guys on various crews along the way, but had long ago realized they could neither see nor hear me; sorta like some dream state I couldn't wake up from. Almost like Ponyboy's nightmares that scared him so bad. I was alone in a crowd and had no idea where to go or what to do, and no one to help me figure this out.

Between landings, I watched officers smoke tobacco and listened in as they casually talked about various girlfriends and wives, about the sports they were missing back home, and how much longer they were gonna be here. Sadly, I also watched grunts load and unload more body bags with no more interest in what they were moving than as if those bags contained seed or mulch for a garden. I guess they'd done this too many times and had gone numb about it.

Finally the bags were placed in long boxes for the final transport over the ocean and home again. As the plane took off, I wandered around the boxes, counting them and reading the tags on the outside. There were many. Too many. Kids, it seemed, all of them. Finally I found the box I supposed I had been looking for, proof that somehow this wasn't a dream or a drug induced craze. The tag wasn't anything remarkable; a name, a number, a place he'd once called home.

PFC Curtis, Sodapop. Serial Number 9524687. Tulsa, Oklahoma.

I stood there, motionless and numb, unable to speak even if there was someone to speak to, for the duration of the flight back home.

XXX

Even in the soft light, Darry's face paled considerably more than I'd expected it to. "Yes, that's him," he garbled, choking on the words. His hands covered his mouth as if to muffle sound but his eyes gave away a grief so immense I thought the world would get sucked into it. I wasn't with him when he identified Mom and Dad, but I doubt that grief had anything on this. He blinked, then blinked again and his frame shuddered. He wiped his eyes and nodded at some guy holding up the cover.

"Do you need some time?" the guy asked as he lowered the cover.

"Please."

The guy slipped out of the room leaving me and Darry alone. Well... me and me.. and Darry. I tried not to think of the other "me" in the room and concentrated on my brother. He'd aged considerably since I'd been home last. His hair was shorter, his frame thinner. Made me wonder if he'd been eating like he should. His skin had the weathered appearance of being out in the sun for too long. I guess he'd been putting in as many hours as he could to keep the money coming in - that or to keep busy.

"Hey, Dar. How ya been?" I laughed weakly at my own sick since of humor. I hate serious stuff and this was as serious as it gets.

"Oh, Sodapop." I watched as Darry wiped his eyes before shakily reaching out a hand - only to pull it back without ever touching me. Well, _that_ me, not _me_ me.

"C'mon, throw me a clue here or something! Say something - something useful! How's Ponyboy? He here somewhere?" I wanted to walk out and check for myself, but didn't. "You didn't just leave him at home, now didja?"

"I'm sorry kid," he choked, ignoring me. "Sorry I couldn't get you out of there, sorry I didn't do more for you. Sorry I didn't make you ..." He wiped his eyes again and stifled a sob. If my heart had a beat, it would have stopped again just from listening to this. On a small table by the door was a tissue box and he turned to get some.

"Man, watching Superman break like that goes against all the freakin' rules of the Universe."

That slick voice was familiar - but one I hadn't heard in years. I turned to see one cheesily grinning Dallas Winston leaning against the far wall, arms crosses with a half spent cigarette butt dangling on his lip.

"Dallas Fuckin' Winston, how the hell are ya?" I shouted gleefully as I went over to him, hoisting him a few feet in the air.

"Pepsi Curtis, you ass, put me down. I got a rep, ya dig?"

I dropped him, glad to see he was real. Actually real!

"So, you had a run-in with a bullet of your own, huh?" he asked, nodding at the other me on the table. "Didn't they tell you to duck? I swear, you don't listen to no one."

"Shoot man, maybe they did. I dunno. Them zingers were going everywhere. Didn't hurt, least, I don't think it did. But, man, you're one to talk. At least mine was from war. You had to go beggin' for it. What _you_ did was just plain stupid. What were you thinking taking a hit in front of us? You have any idea how much that messed up ..."

"Shuddup, Sodapop. You know I wouldn't do nothing on purpose to hurt the guys. Not_ really_ hurt 'em. I might be a son of a bitch, but I ain't a sadistic son of a bitch. What happened, happened. Can't take it back now noway."

I stopped short, knowing at least that much was the truth. An awkward silence filled the room and I rocked on my heals, hands shoved deep in my pockets. I had a bunch of questions but wasn't so sure I wanted the answers just yet. However, one thought kept crossing my mind, one I couldn't keep quiet.

"How's Ponyboy? I ain't seen him in so long. How do we..."

"Cool your jets, there, soldier boy. All in time, all in time. Hey, Darry's leaving. Wanna take a gawk?"

He started over but I shook my head. "Naw, that's alright. I got a feeling I don't need to see it to believe it."

"Suit yourself. Well, I'm outta here. Hanging out in funeral parlors ain't my cup o' tea."

I gave a halfhearted grin. "Sayin's changed, Dally. It's 'bag o' weed' now."

He grinned. "Shoot, Sodapop, ain't like you're gonna get either here. C'mon, let's go."

"Hold up, I wanna see Ponyboy first. Where is he?"

Dally gave me one of his traditional cold stares, then flinched. "O...kay, if you insist. But kid, it ain't gonna be pretty."

"Take me to him, Dallas," I insisted. He shrugged.

"Like I said, if you insist. C'mon."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

I've tried to make this not too morbid, given the events going on in the world today. Please forgive if it hits a nerve you'd rather not have hit.

And please forgive typo's. I'm not perfect. Not by any stretch.


	4. Holes In Plaster, Holes In Hearts

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 4

**Holes In Plaster, Holes in Hearts**

XXX

"What the heck? I said take me to Ponyboy!" Everything was pitch black, as if a smoke grenade had gone off. Dal shrugged.

"I did. Trust me, that wasn't a picture you wanted to see." Dally turned to look off in the distance, his low mutterings still audible. "Not like this is gonna be any better, but still..."

"And who made you boss of what I can and can't see?" I felt my temper rise but Dally seemed unaffected. Odd, it used to be so easy to rile him while I was the easy going one. I was about to get nasty when the dark fog began to clear and I could make out our surroundings better. We were in a large, unfamiliar room. Bland furniture was pushed against the four walls, a few potted plants stood in the corners. Lamps emitted soft lighting from nearby side tables, and here and there lay maybe a dozen tissue boxes. It wasn't home, wasn't anywhere familiar. The only things familiar were the three bodies that had separated themselves from the rest of the crowd milling about. "Ponyboy..."

"He can't hear ya, ya know."

I ignored Dally, crossing the room to my brother's side.

"What happened to him?" I asked, alarmed at the cast that went from his fingers almost to his elbow.

"Busted it."

"I can _see_ that. How?"

Dally leaned against a wall, looking bored. "Him and Steve got into it."

"_Steve_ did this to him?" I glared at Steve, who stood sullenly beside the couch where Ponyboy and Two-Bit sat. The light brown remnants of a bruise colored Steve's cheek, the faintest sign of anything out of the ordinary.

"Well, not exactly. Kid was a little upset the night they got the news. Steve was trying to be all nice-nice but his timing was a tad off – you _do _remember those two will argue about anything given the chance. Anyway, they exchanged a few blows before Darry and Micky Moron there split them up."

"Pony broke his hand punching Steve?"

"Nup. The kid drove his fist through Darry's drywall after Darry pulled him off Steve. That's how he broke his hand."

My chest tightened. "Oh, Pony..."

"It's almost time, Pone," Two-Bit said softly, leaning forward as if to get up. Glancing at him, I was surprised at how well dressed he was. I didn't think he owned clothes that nice. Stolen, bought, or borrowed... I couldn't tell.

"I ain't ready..." Ponyboy's voice sounded funny; crackly and catching low in his throat.

"None of us are, but still..."

"Ponyboy, I'll sit with you, if you want..."

"Hey, who's she?" Some brown haired girl I'd never seen before was kneeling down, her hand on Pony's knee while looking up at him with pained eyes.

"The broad? That's his girl. Melinda, Melissa... something like that."

_His girl_? He hadn't mailed me any letters about him getting a girlfriend. "How long's that been going on?"

Dally's look of boredom became more pronounced. "A few months, I guess."

"He never said nothing to me about getting a girl. Still, I'm glad he's finally found someone to bring a little feminine action into his life. They get along okay?"

Dal didn't exactly answer my question. "Don't really matter seeing as how she ain't staying. She'll be moving on in a few months."

Ponyboy slowly shook his head, not saying a word. His eyes were swimming and his nose flared. I knew that look. He was holding on to everything he could to keep from bawling. I also knew he'd lose.

A nearby door opened and Darry came in. He was dressed in a black suit I hadn't seen before. I hoped it hadn't cost a lot. The girl, who was now standing a little out of the way, moved further to the side. Darry leaned down. "C'mon, Ponyboy," he softly called. "They're ready to start."

A tear fell. Like I figured, he'd lose the battle. "I ain't ready."

"Ain't nobody ready," said Two-Bit carefully as he stood up. "But this is something we gotta do. For Sodapop."

Ponyboy winced at the sound of my name. A few more tears fell and he shakily wiped them away with the back of his good hand. He shook his head, making a strange hissing noise that I knew meant if made to speak, he'd choke on his sobs. Darry looked like he would unravel any moment too, but I knew better. He'd wait until later, when he was alone and thought no one could hear him.

"C'mon, Ponyboy," Two-Bit whispered, helping Pony to his feet. "We're right here, buddy."

Steve caught Darry's eye and gave a slight nod. He followed behind what was left of my family and closest friends as they went from one room to the next. The others in the room, Tim and Angela Shepard, Two-Bit's mother and sister, my old DX boss Mr. Carmichael, a few high school buddies from years ago, and some faces I'd long forgotten the names of followed as well. I started to follow too, but Dally grabbed my shoulder and stopped me.

"Nuh uh."

"But..."

He steered me toward another door I hadn't noticed before. "I know a shortcut. C'mon."

On the other side of the door was a powerful bright light. I shielded my eyes until they adjusted, finding myself standing on gently sloping ground. A few yards in front of me was a flag draped coffin with a military chaplain speaking to a small crowd. Seated in the few chairs available were Darry and Ponyboy, side by side, with Steve and Two-Bit beside them. A few members of the military were there too, none of whom I knew. On a hill in the distance was a distinct house I'd seen in some of Ponyboy's old books.

"Arlington?"

Dal gave a cockeyed grin. "Tuff shit, huh? Darry pulled some serious strings for this."

"But … I thought I'd be buried at home, in West Lawn, next to Mom and..."

Dal held up a hand, stopping me short. "Hold up, here comes the best part..."

I jumped and nearly hit the deck when a sudden volley of gunfire rang out. I looked over to see the riflemen fire the final volley followed by the bugler playing taps. It was all so surreal until movement in the chairs got my attention. Ponyboy had pitched forward but Darry had him, holding him tight. Pony's shoulders shook; I shook as well. Two-Bit had a hand on his back; Steve wiped his own face and stared hard at the casket. I couldn't read his expression. I couldn't read _anyone's_ expression. They were all the same. Pain, anger, anguish... all rolled into one.

"You son of a bitch," I seethed, "why'd you bring me here to see this?"

Dal looked at me head on. "You asked me to."

I smoldered in my spot as I realized he was right. I had indeed asked for this.

And the agony was worse than I could ever imagine.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	5. Trying To Get Answers

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 5

**Trying To Get Answers**

XXX

Time was my enemy. I didn't feel it slipping away, wasn't aware of how it was passing me by. It was, though. Through glimpses in the fog, I saw the seasons change around me. Watched as Darry forced himself to carry on with the business of living while Ponyboy went through similar motions of his own. Darry seemed to do better, always the master at shelving his heart. Ponyboy, however, was not quite so talented. He hurt. Even though I couldn't really _feel_ anything anymore, his pain was palpable.

"I'm here, Pone." I'd tell him at night as I sat by him, watching as he'd grip my pillow tight in his fist, sobbing in silence into the tattered material. He'd gone back to sleeping in his room but considering how much from my room was in here, he may as well have stayed where he was. At least there he would have had more space. This room wasn't much bigger than a closet.

"He can't hear ya..." Dal's voice called out to me from across the house. I rolled my eyes, unsurprised at hearing him. Seemed he liked hanging out on our sofa just as much now as he did back then.

"Shut it, Dally," I called back, annoyed. Ponyboy heard me. He had to've heard me. The pain that rolled off my brother had to be eased somehow. I sat and watched as his eyes fluttered some before eventually staying closed and his trembling eased into steady breathing. It was rough doing this night after night, but what else could I do? When all was calm I headed toward the living room.

Dal was tossing a football in the air and catching it when he looked at me. "I take it the kid's out?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he's asleep."

"Wanna split for a while, go toss some balls or something?"

For emphasis, he tossed the ball at me and I caught it. I looked down the hallway and sighed. "Sure, let's go."

"Man, you gotta cheer up. All this mopin' around is a drag."

We left the house and headed out toward town, tossing the ball back and forth as we went. We ended up at the Double, the lot empty of cars and the screen dark.

"Hey Dal, what is this?" I asked, finally voicing my thoughts.

"It's the Double... or have you forgotten already?" he answered sarcastically, his cheesy grin spread on his face.

"I don't mean the theater, you dolt. I mean... _this_!" I spread my arms out around me as if this existence could be bottled up.

"This?" he stated rather matter- of- factly. "This is home, Sodapop. **My** home. Your home now too, I guess. We can go anywhere we wanna go and ain't no damn fuzz or Soc bastard gonna tell us otherwise."

I looked around. Empty cola cups and snack food wrappers drifted here and there in the light breeze. Rats scurried in the corner by the screens. Outside the gates the occasional car went by, oblivious to us.

"This ain't exactly what I pictured heaven to look like," I muttered.

"Ain't heaven," I heard him answer back. His voice was tinged with faint remorse and I looked at him.

"So where are we?"

He didn't answer right away, just looked off in the distance while swigging down a drink.

"Like I said," he answered gruffly. "It's home." He tossed his cup into the barren lot, just another cup amongst the rubbish.

"Here, catch..." I went out from him and let loose the ball, letting it sail right to him. He caught it and for a while that was what we did. Eventually the passes slowed and we headed out again.

"Hey Dal, can I ask you something?"

"Like you ain't gonna try if I say no? Jeeze – alright, alright ... what is it?"

"Where's everyone else?"

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and shook his head. "Ain't nobody here but you and me kid."

He was pissing me off, making me be blunt. "_Johnny_, Dal. Where's Johnny? If you're here, why ain't he?"

His jaw tightened and he set his eyes. "I thought the kid told you. Joh – he went, _died_, before I took my hits."

I thought back to that night. "Yeah, Ponyboy came home and told us Johnny had died. Then you called …. we tried to get there in time, but you... well …." I didn't finish. We both knew how it ended. Still, he looked at me like I was supposed to get it. I didn't.

"I know. I took my hits, made my mistakes... I don't need you to remind me of that. But Johnnycake died before me. I, I don't think he hung around."

"Whaddya mean, hung around?"

"He went on."

I looked around. "Where?"

"Damnit Sodapop," he turned and shoved me back a step or two, suddenly upset. "You ain't all that dense, so knock it off. He went on... passed this place... beyond this... beyond here!"

"Heaven?"

"Call it what you want. It sure ain't here." He glared at me again then stormed off on his own. Not that I wanted to be around him when he was pissy like this, but I sure didn't want to hang out in this existence alone either. He might be pathetic company when the mood strikes him, but from what I could tell, he was the only company I had. I didn't want to loose him.

"You coming back to the house later?" I called after him. He didn't answer, just raised his hand before shoving it back in his pocket again. He faded into the mist and I turned for home.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	6. Sinking To New Lows

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 6

**Sinking To New Lows**

Warning... Use of drugs in this chapter.

**XXX**

"Have a good day at school, kiddo. I'll be home late – gonna put in a few hours at the warehouse tonight."

"We behind on something?" Pony asked, looking up from his cereal with a hint of concern in his eyes. Darry shook his head.

"Nah. Ain't nothing like that. But I saw the warehouse bossman yesterday while I was out picking up some stuff from the store and he asked if I could come help out tonight. Seems their other guy is sick, and well, I owe him some favors, so I guess I'd better go in. You okay with that?"

So Darry-like, I thought, keeping busy all the time. The only thing off was the dry way he spoke and the emptiness in his eyes, as if he'd aged another twenty years. Pony nodded while going back to his cereal as Darry adjusted the tools on his belt. Something, however, caught his eye and he stopped again, reaching for a stack of papers on the top of the piano.

"I thought you'd already sent these off. Pony, they ain't even filled out! It's getting late! You know they have deadlines..." I wondered what they were and glanced at the stack... college applications... several universities, too, judging by the number of envelopes in his hand. Was it that time already? Ponyboy looked stunned, pausing a moment before saying anything.

"I didn't really see the need."

"Look, you and I both know the alternative to college, and I'll be damned if you just give up. Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted it that way and neither would So-"

"_Don't_ say it, Dar," I was shocked at the sudden anger in Pony's tone. It wasn't like him to be like that. He didn't look up, just stared straight into his cereal while giving his spoon a death grip. "Don't tell me what he would have wanted. You want me to mail 'em? Well fine, I'll get them done today, mail them out tomorrow. Just don't go expecting nothing from it."

Darry's face tightened; lips drawn into a line while his eyes narrowed, and I thought... ohh kiddo, you've done it now, but instead he lay the envelopes back on the piano and picked up his hardhat. "See ya tonight," he muttered softly as he disappeared out the door.

Ponyboy didn't glance up as the door slapped the frame. The engine to our Ford turned over then faded away as Darry drove off. When it was gone Pony rose from the table and dumped his cereal into the sink.

"You know you gotta at least try," I told him. "And Darry's right... you got the brains to do anything, go anywhere you want..."

He went right passed me, never hearing a word as he ducked into the bathroom. Minutes later he reemerged, grabbed his books off the table and paused briefly at the piano where those papers Darry had been holding were waiting for him. What was going through his mind? I wished I knew. So much time had gone by, I wasn't sure I could read him right anymore.

I didn't have long to think on it because a car I didn't recognize suddenly pulled up, the driver blasting the horn long enough to wake anyone foolish enough to try sleeping in. Ponyboy jumped from the noise, shoved the papers in his bag then turned to leave.

"Who's that guy?" I asked, turning to Dally.

He shook his head. "Trouble."

Ponyboy disappeared into the backseat just as the driver, whomever he was, drove on. They turned the corner and was gone.

"Don't give up, kid," I whispered, suddenly terrified. I felt the same desperation I had that night so long ago, when Darry had told Pony that if he didn't like the way he was running things he could just get out. I wished desperately that I could get through to him, get him to see beyond the pain he kept bottled up.

"Ain't gonna work."

I looked over my shoulder. Dally was combing his hair back in the mirror. "What ain't?"

He smirked. "Talking to him. He ain't gonna hear ya. Trust me, I've tried."

"What kind of screwed up existence is this, anyway? We can't do nothing but sit by and watch!"

"Yeah... sucks, don't it?"

"Like you don't care? Oh, I forgot. The only person you cared about ain't around no more, so what's it to you -" That was as far as I got because his fist suddenly smashed into my jaw so hard my neck would'a broke if I'd have had a pulse. It didn't hurt, but it sure was a surprise. "What the hell?"

"Don't you even go there about Johnny! He's at peace, so leave him out of it! As for your brother, you ain't got no idea how much I cared for that kid!"

"You sure as hell showed it!" I screamed back, rubbing my jaw.

"Fuck that, Sodapop. They came to _me_ for help! Not you! Not Darry! I did what I could, knowing sending them back here would end up with Johnny and Ponyboy - and _you too_ all being sent to the boys' home once the fuzz came around! Not only that, but Ponyboy himself told me not to go ratting him out to you and Darry! If I didn't care for that kid, I wouldn't'a bothered with it! I'd a' just dropped Pony off here and hauled out'a town with Johnnycake! As it was, I was trying..."

"You should have brought him home!" I screamed back.

"I should'a minded my own damn business!" he volleyed back. "But I didn't, because I cared!"

We stared at each other a minute, each of us getting our breathing – if you could call it that – back to normal. The fight in me evaporated, I guess it was gone from Dally too. The past was the past, and neither of us could change anything. He picked up his comb and smoothed back his hair. I ran my fingers through mine, forgetting my hair was gone, replaced by a crew cut that hadn't had the chance to grow back out.

"I cared, Sodapop," he insisted, softly. "Can't you get that? I really, really did."

He was pleading. Dallas Winston. _ Pleading_. I nodded. "I know you did, Dally. I know."

He looked at his watch and grabbed his leather coat. "Shit, we're late. C'mon. We gotta go."

"Go? Where?"

"That's up to your brother."

Huh? I hurried to follow, wondering what he was talking about. Outside, the sun shone so bright it blinded my eyes, forcing me to shade them. When I could see again, I had a vague recollection of where we were, an alley a few blocks from Pony's school. Ponyboy was there along with three others I didn't know, and by the looks of it, no one was up to any good. Focusing, I saw something I never thought I'd ever witness. The thought he'd sunk this low made my insides curl.

"Oh man... tell me he ain't..." I didn't have time to finish. Ponyboy had already lit the joint and was taking a hit. He turned a shade paler and suddenly choked, coughing hard. Remembering the guys back in 'Nam, I knew he wasn't used to it – yet. The guys with him burst out laughing as one took the doobie from his fingers.

"Cherry," the guy mumbled, laughing as he sucked in deep.

"Nah, he'll get used to it. Woncha, Horseman?" another said, chucking Pony's bicep.

"Fuck you," was all he could choke out as he kneeled on all fours, his hand clutching his chest.

"We got something better, just wait..." said one of the other guys, melting something on a spoon nearby. My eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit... hell no! Dally, we gotta do something! Stop him somehow!"

"Hold on, they'll hear it in a second..."

Sure enough, in the distance was the approaching wail of a cop car. They weren't paying it any attention, one smoking while another pulled up his sleeve. Pony heard it first, scrambling to run but tripping over his feet, disoriented by the buzz. The others reacted to his lead.

"Shit, man! Shit!" the guy with the spoon yelled, dropping the stuff to run. Too late. The cops rounded the corner, blocking everyone in the alley.

"What can we do now?" I asked Dally as I ran to Pony's side. He coolly watched from his perch atop a dumpster.

"We? We can't do nothing," he muttered as he lit a smoke.

In shock, I watched as my kid brother was frisked, cuffed and placed in a patrol car.

_What kind of hell am I in?_

**XXX**

Calla Lily Rose


	7. All The Way From Owasso

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 7

**All The Way From Owasso**

XXX

"Why, Pone? Why?"

I kept asking him what on Earth had possessed him, but he just sat in the corner of the cell oblivious to my existence. I'd tried everything I could; kicking the bars, rattling the bench he'd refused to sit on … but he never heard me. Didn't know I was there. Across the room, the cop who'd arrested him was going through some things found near the alley. One of which was his dark blue backpack.

"Officer Kendrick?" asked a newcomer to the room. This guy was tall and thin, glasses perched on his nose with his tie knotted all the way to his Adam's apple. The cop looked up.

"Yeah, that's me. I take it you're the lawyer they sent over?"

"Yes sir, Martin Doonesburg. Where's my client?"

Kendrick chuckled. "I ain't sure if he needs you or his mama."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Kendrick looked our way and raised an eyebrow. "Kid ain't said a word. Don't know if he's still a minor or if he's turned the magical age of 18 yet."

"I understand you have his name – shouldn't you be able to contact his parents?"

Kendrick smirked as he held up a handful of college applications. "The only thing we can find is the word 'Ponyboy' scrawled on these papers. That ain't a name."

Doonesburg stiffened. "I'll speak with my client now ... alone... if you don't mind."

Kendrick looked as if he was going to balk, but aside from an earlier drug bust and burglary arrest, it had been a boring day … and he really wasn't in the mood to argue about interrogation techniques to a lawyer who looked barely old enough to be out of school yet. He got the keys to the holding cell and opened the door. Ponyboy stood.

"Kid, if I were you, I'd follow your lawyer to that room. Don't try anything stupid."

Ponyboy blinked and followed the man in the suit. I stayed right behind him.

"I understand," the lawyer started as he shuffled papers in his briefcase, obviously searching for something that had fallen to the bottom, "that you haven't spoken to the authorities yet? They've found papers -"

Doonesburg looked up. Ponyboy had been holding a pen in his outstretched hand, silently waiting for the lawyer to take it. He did, then pushed his glasses higher on his nose and set his briefcase aside.

"- um, thank you. As I was saying, you haven't spoken to the authorities?"

Ponyboy slowly shook his head.

"Well," the lawyer said softly, confusion in his tone, "For starters, I need to know your name. You don't seem old enough to be eighteen, I'm sure your parents would be..."

"My parents are dead," Ponyboy's voice sounded cracked, as if he hadn't used it in years. "They've been gone a long time."

Doonesburg blinked. "Who watches over -"

"My brother, Darry. Darry Curtis."

I could feel the anxiety coming off Pony, how he was holding on so tight.

"Kid's scared to death!" Dally's sudden appearance caught me off guard. He leaned against the back wall, smirking, a smoke dangling on his lip.

"He don't like the fuzz, you know that."

"For someone who don't like the fuzz, he sure likes to get in trouble."

"Screw you, Dal."

"C'mon," he dropped his butt and snuffed it out under his shoe. "Let's get some air. See what else is going on." He hooked my neck and pulled, dragging me away from Pony's side. I resisted but Dal didn't give in. "The kid'll be fine. He'll get asked some questions, Darry'll get called, he'll show up and berate the kid. You remember ... the usual?"

"I don't remember 'the usual' actually involving Ponyboy getting arrested."

"There's a first time for everything," he drawled, his eyebrows dancing from memories of the past. "Like when you and Two-Bit got busted for disturbing the peace? Remember that?"

I had to admit, I did. But still, Pony wasn't me and this wasn't like Pony. I hesitated, but Dal cinched my arm and pulled harder.

"C'mon, let's get out'a here."

XXX

The bar was darker than I'd remembered it. Dal slid onto a barstool and waited for me to take the one next to him.

"I needed to stay with Ponyboy," I protested again as I sat down.

"Relax, Sodapop." Dal wasn't even paying me any attention, looking instead at something across the bar from us. I looked up, expecting a dame. Instead...

"What the hell happened to him?" Two-Bit had dark shadows under his eyes and looked as if he hadn't seen a barber for weeks.

"He's been hitting the hard stuff here lately."

"Because of me?" I asked, incredulous.

"Don't flatter yourself, it ain't always all about you. His sister ain't exactly been making good choices. She's been hanging out with one of the Brumly boys, and you remember how wild those slime balls could be."

I remembered_ exactly _what they were like and was suddenly grateful I didn't have a sister. "And he ain't stopped her?"

"He's tried. Teenage, foolish, refuses to listen – remind you of any other teenagers we've known? She's a chick; thinks the more guys she knows, the better. Toss in hormones and it ain't pretty."

"What about their mother? Ain't she -"

He shook his head. "Sodapop, you ain't been dead_ that _long to have forgotten what it's like. Ms. Mathews ain't been Mother Of The Year in decades. She's been holding down two bartending jobs just to make ends meet while her kids roam the town. Besides, Two-Bit did set the example. All the broads he's known could fill half the Tulsa white pages."

"You know just as well as I do that he's all talk. Kathy's been his only -"

I stopped, caught off guard by the sudden entry of someone I knew. He stepped up to the bar and took a seat a few barstools down from us. I got up and stepped closer, disbelieving what I was seeing.

"What can I get ya?" the bartender asked.

"Beer. Whatever ya got is fine."

The bartender reached behind him and pulled out a bottle, setting it in front of the man. "You been over there in the war?"

Sarge gave the bartender a stern look before nodding slightly. "Don't give me no shit about it neither."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	8. Eavesdropping

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 8

**Eavesdropping**

**XXX**

"Sarge? Hey Sarge... I can't believe it! It's really you!-"

"He can't hear ya!" Dal reminded me. I stood there, gape mouthed in disbelief. I thought back. He'd said something about being from Owasso...

"What's he here for?" I had a feeling Dally knew more than he was letting on. Sort of like how Ponyboy reads ahead in a book, eager to know what's gonna happen even if he doesn't know how it's gonna unfold. It used to piss Darry off how he did that. Until now, it'd never bothered me. As of this second, it was bothering me a whole lot.

"You'll see."

"What's gonna happen, Dal?" I demanded, feeling set up. Still, I should have known I couldn't bully Dallas Winston.

"Park it, Sodapop."

That was all I could get out of him. He reached over the counter and swiped a beer while I sat down by Sarge. Damn, I wished I could talk to him. I wished I could talk to some-

"Hey Sam," some new guy said as he sat down on the other side of Sarge. "Sorry I'm late. Been here long?"

"No. Just got here myself. It's been a while since I was back in Tulsa, took a few wrong turns to find this place again."

"Hell, it's been years since you were back on American soil, let alone Tulsa." The stranger was silent a moment, searching for a way to break the ice. "Saw a lot, huh?" he softly asked.

"More than any human should."

Again, a heaviness descended. I looked over at Dally. "Look, I'm glad to see Sarge again, but really, I'd rather be with P-"

He held up a hand to silence me.

"So what's going on with your world?" Sarge asked, changing the subject. "Still prosecuting the poor?"

The stranger smiled. "Nope. Got appointed to the bench."

"A judge? Really? I bet Aunt Linda's proud of that."

"Yeah, Mom was pretty happy about it."

Sarge popped a few peanuts in his mouth. "These days I thought the local kids would be doing all they could to stay out of trouble, knowing the consequences..."

I knew what he meant. For many guys I knew, it was jail or military. If you were smart, it became college or military. If you were poor, like most guys in Tulsa, it seemed inevitable; military or military. You either sat around living in terror of getting that draft notice or you went down and enlisted, beating the military at their own game. Didn't really seem to matter, no one could escape it.

"There's always troublemakers."

"What kind of trouble are the punks these days getting themselves into?"

The stranger shifted in his seat, swirling the beer in his bottle. "Same mess they've always been into. Breaking and entering, larceny, assault... they've up the ante with drugs though."

"Damn. I was hoping not to see that mess here on my own soil."

"It's everywhere. Just today they added three more cases to my docket for tomorrow. Couple kids messing around... flushing their lives down the toilet."

"Well, send them to me. I'll straighten them out."

"Finally managed to get an assignment back here again?"

"Ft. Polk, Louisiana; pushing boots. Got tired of them sending me kids who can't shoot and only piss their pants. Figured maybe I can teach them before they get a bullet embedded in their brain."

"Good luck. Most of these kids these days think they're too good to be taught anything. Though, there are a few out there who want to learn. At least, until they screw up their chances. Like one of those kids I was telling you about on my docket for tomorrow? Yeah, he was headed to college. At least, that's what his file said. So much for that. Crazy name too... Ponyboy... or something weird like that."

My eyes narrowed as my temper went white hot. I looked over at Dally, who was smirking.

Sarge sat up a little. "I had a kid with a crazy name in my unit. He was from around here too. Curtis. Private Curtis. Good kid, kept out of trouble. Wisecracker. Made all of us grin at some point. Sodapop was his first name. Crazy kid with a crazy name."

"Really? Small world. So how's he doing?"

Sarge didn't answer for a minute. His jaw jumped and he took a pull of his beer. "I sent him home in a box months ago."

"Oh."

Sarge looked the stranger in the eye.

"Before I did, I went through his personnel file. His family was listed on his Page Two. Not much... an older brother who looked after him and his kid brother, Ponyboy Curtis."

The stranger said nothing and Sarge continued to glare at him. Beads of sweat formed on Sarge's forehead as he suddenly gripped the stranger's wrist.

"You said this Ponyboy person was headed to college?"

"Look, Sam, I don't even know if this is the same kid -"

"And just how many Ponyboy Curtis's do you think exist in Tulsa? Or the world, for that matter? Look Mark, I owe Curtis. I _owe_ him. I owe_ him_ and all the other kids I couldn't save. And maybe I can't do a damn thing for any of the others, but I can do something for him. This kid... Curtis used to talk about his kid brother all the time. How smart he was, how he was gonna make it. Mark, don't send him down the line..."

"Sam!" the stranger hissed, breaking loose from Sarge's grip while looking around as if being watched. He was. I hadn't blinked yet but he didn't know it. "I'm a _judge_! I can't bend the law for you! If the kid did wrong -"

"I covered for you plenty of times when we were kids, Mark."

The stranger looked agast. "This is different, Sam! We ain't kids no more, and neither are these punks out on the streets. I can't give no favors! The kid will have his day in court like everyone else!"

The stale tobacco hanging thick in the air was nothing compared to the tension between these two men. The stranger got up and tossed some bills on the counter. "It's good to see you home, Sam." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the bar.

"You want anything else?" the bartender asked Sarge as he picked up the bills left by the stranger.

"Whiskey," Sarge said. As the bartender started to pour it, Sarge looked up. "Cancel that." He tossed some bills of his own on the bar and turned to leave.

Dally was chucking his beer into the trash can and stood to stretch. "Nothing like a cold beer on a hot day, huh Sodapop?"

"What the- Dallas, what the hell is this?"

He got up and brushed peanut crumbs off his shirt. "C'mon, lets go see if Muscles has finished berating the kid yet."

I looked over, Two-Bit was gone. When did he leave? I was so absorbed in watching Sarge and this stranger, I hadn't noticed anyone else. "Where's Two-Bit?"

He reached for the door, steering me outside. "Out in back, puking. And no, that ain't a show I'm gonna watch."

Numb, I followed. Dallas seemed to have answers to questions I couldn't even think of, but I was getting rather sick of _watching_ life instead of being in it.

"How's this gonna end?" I asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" he answered, that sickeningly coy grin spread over his cheesy face.

_Because you know, Dally,_ I thought to myself. _ I don't know how, but you know._

**XXX**

Calla Lily Rose

Please pardon typo's.


	9. Purple

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 9

**Purple**

**XXX**

On the bench sat the man I'd seen in the bar. "Mark" was what Sarge called him. The nameplate in front of him read " Hon. Judge McCaffey." I would have to wait to see how "honorable" the man was going to be.

I looked around. The courtroom seats were mostly empty. I was hoping to see Sarge again, especially since he seemed to have an interest in my brother, but he wasn't here. Darry was here, seated just behind Ponyboy in the spectator's section. He was dressed in his suit and tie, trying to impress to the court that while we may be poor, we aren't scum. Behind him a few rows back sat Two-Bit and, surprise, Steve. I hadn't seen much of him since the funeral. He seemed thinner. His hair was shorter and lacked the heavy coat of grease I was used to seeing him wear. He also looked older than he should, as if he were aging faster than his years.

In front sat Ponyboy and the tall, skinny guy, Martin Doonesburg. Doonesburg sat shuffling a stack of papers in front of him while Ponyboy sat very still, hands clasped tightly together in his lap. Across the aisle at another table sat a heavyset man, coke bottle glasses perched on his crooked nose with a thick folder held in his meaty hand. The prosecutor, I guessed. The judge banged the gavel and the proceedings started.

"Your honor," started the heavyset guy, "the defendant, Ponyboy Curtis, was found in the company of three accomplices behind the SaveMart on Hickory Street at 10:47 on the morning of the 18th, each having in their possession illegal drugs..."

Hearing it, even though I'd seen him doing it, made me sick. Looking at him now, I knew he was ashamed. I had no idea how badly Darry had laid into him, but it couldn't have been any worse than what he was doing to himself. His head was down, staring only at his clasped hands. I bent closer, watching a single tear slide down his cheek. He brushed it away hastily and became still again.

"Cool it, Pony," I whispered, wishing he could hear me. "Whatever happens, I'm here." If only I _were_ here, I thought with agony. If only I could hear his thoughts...

"I've already read the reports, Mr. Spellman," the judge drawled. "What do you have that isn't in the file?"

"Your honor, this isn't Mr. Curtis's first offense. Two years ago he was involved in the murder of eighteen year old Robert Sheldon -"

I jerked, furious. "That's a low blow!" I yelled at the guy. Of course, he didn't hear me.

"Your honor," broke in Mr. Doonesburg, "that was a case of self-defense. My client was being attacked-"

"Both of you, hold it," insisted the judge, holding his hand up to stop the chatter. "Mr. Doonesburg, I am well aware of that case and the circumstances around it, and Mr. Spellman, you should know better than to try to reopen a closed case."

"Hah!" I yelled.

"What are you, some sort of lawyer now?" Dally drawled from the back of the court.

"Sue me!" I shot back.

"It only demonstrates that the defendant has criminal tendencies, your honor," protested Mr. Spellman.

"Criminal tendencies?" the judge scoffed. "I've reviewed that case file, and nothing in that history demonstrates any such intention. What do you have that's current and relevant to this offense?"

"Yeah, what else you got, dip-shit!" I looked over at the papers he was shuffling, all of which meant gobbledygook to me since I don't speak lawyer.

Mr. Spellman looked stunned. "He was found in the company of three youths with marijuana and heroin in their possession."

"We're fucked," I groaned.

"Your honor, my client was not using -" interrupted Mr. Doonesburg, his voice sharp.

"Mr. Doonesburg, was your client tested for narcotics?" the judge cut in.

"Excuse me, your honor?"

"Was Mr. Curtis tested for the presence of narcotics in his system?"

"No, your honor."

"Nup, you're saved," Dally said, a perfect halo of smoke floating from his lips. " - this time. Kinda interesting, doncha think, Soda, that the judge seems to be acting as defense too? In all the times I went before the judge, they never took _this_ much interest. Almost like he …." Dally never finished his thought.

"Mr. Spellman, did your office subpena a drug test from Mr. Curtis?"

The prosecutor stood stock still, a flicker of rage on his face. "No your honor, but there _were_ _witnesses-_"

"Witnesses," the judge clarified, "who can only state Mr. Curtis was in the company of others using narcotics."

I hadn't noticed how little Pony's lawyer seemed to fight until Dal mentioned it. Still, it wasn't over. "Darry could still lose custody," I reminded him.

"He was found smoking a marijuana cigarette, your honor!"

"_Alleged_ marijuana cigarette, your honor!" Mr. Doonesburg quickly corrected.

"Yeah, he could." Dally agreed, who had found a new seat perched on the corner of the judges tabletop. "And this_ is_ the kid's second offense... It ain't over yet."

"Hey, who's side are you on?"

"Then you have no proof of any narcotic being in his system, is that correct?"

"The kid's side. Hey, you hear that?" asked Dally as he leaned closer.

I looked around, confused, but he pointed at Pony. I leaned closer, wondering what Dally was getting at. "What?"

"Shut up and _listen_."

I heard it. Lighter than a whisper, I doubt any living human ears could have heard it.

"So...da."

The word screamed at my stilled heart. He needed me and all I could do was sit by and watch. Two more tears fell into his closed fists before he was able to push it down again. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, hold him like I used to when he had those nightmares so long ago. I reached out to him but Dally jumped off the bench and charged me, grabbing my hand before I knew what was happening.

"No! Soda!"

I stopped, stunned. "Why?" I demanded. Around us, the case continued, oblivious to mine and Dally's sudden tangle.

"No sir, but I have statements from witnesses-"

His face screwed up and he swatted his hands around, unwilling or unable to explain. Finally he shoved me back and into the partition between Pony and Darry. Neither seemed to notice. "Because."

"Mr. Curtis," the judge interrupted, "Do you smoke?"

Ponyboy looked up, his face a scary shade of pale. "Sir?"

"Because _why_, Dallas?"

The judge looked right at him and repeated his question. "Do you smoke cigarettes?"

Ponyboy nodded slightly. "Yes sir, I do."

"Because... I_ said_ so."

"And you understand how dangerous that is to your health?"

He nodded again. "Yes sir."

"Explain it to me!"

The judge glared at him. Darry, behind him, had fear etched in every line in his face while Two-Bit glistened with visible sweat. Steve seemed to be holding his breath. Pony's future was still precarious.

"I can't!" he shouted back. "Ain't nothing to explain no way! You're dead. He's alive. You can't touch him! It's that simple!"

Somehow I doubted that. Before, when I'd tried to touch anything in their world, my hand would simply pass through it. Why was this different? I looked around. In the minute that had elapsed, I'd not heard a word of what was going on. I tore myself away from Dally's words and refocused on Pony again. His hands were shaking. In one of his closed fists, I noticed for the first time a tiny bit of purple cloth sticking out from his fingers.

"I have here documents -" the judge was saying, getting my attention once again - "that were found in your bookbag. College applications. Are you planning to go?"

Pony shuddered slightly and nodded. "I was."

"According to your guidance counselor at your school, you have a good academic record. A _very_ good academic record. You realize using drugs will ruin your chances of making anything of yourself?"

He nodded again. The judge didn't wait for him to speak.

"And that repeated visits to my courtroom will cause you to lose not just your home and what's left of your family, but also your chances of academic success - and could be the precursor to landing you hard time in prison?"

Pony cringed. "Yes sir."

"Then I suggest you part ways with these new acquaintances you've been hanging around with. Stick to school work and keep your nose out of trouble."

"Your honor!" protested Mr. Spellman.

"Mr. Spellman, the defendant admits to smoking a cigarette, which, according to these sworn statements is all the arresting officers documented. They didn't procure any drug paraphernalia from the defendant nor did they test him for any illegal substances in his system. The only thing in his possession at the time he was taken into custody was his blue school bag. In that bag, according to the police reports _you yourself_ submitted as evidence were three different college applications, some library books and two packs of Marlboro's – not the belongings of your average drug user!"

Dally was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"But your honor -"

"Mr. Spellman, if, in the future, you wish to prosecute drug offenders, try to have some evidence that shows actual drug possession or use! Mr. Curtis, I remand you back to the custody of your brother, Darrel, remind you to stay out of trouble, and wish you luck in your future college aspirations! Case closed!"

And as fast as that, he picked up the gavel and whacked it hard on the desk. _WHAM!_

Mr. Spellman looked aghast, then quickly shoved his file into his briefcase and turned to leave without a word to Mr. Doonesburg. Mr. Doonesburg, meanwhile, patted Ponyboy on his shoulder before turning to shake Darry's hand.

"I told ya, Little Colt, it'll all be fine!" I whispered to him. If only he could hear...

"Where'd you guys ever get that nick name for him anyway?" Dal asked.

"It was something Mom and Dad started," I muttered, half paying attention to Dally. Darry had come over and stood next to Ponyboy, who wordlessly looked back at him. "Come on, guys, work this out..." I begged.

Pony's head dropped a little, just before he leaned into Darry's arms as Darry swallowed him in a powerful hug of his own. "I'm sorry, Dar." Ponyboy's words muffled in Darry's jacket. Darry didn't say anything but he didn't have to. I knew they'd forgiven each other.

The purple cloth in Pony's hand became more visible just then. It was connected to a heart shaped medal. I didn't have to look closer to see any other details. I'd seen enough of them in the short time I was in the military. The purple heart. And not just any purple heart.

This one was mine.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Reviews would be great. Thanks!


	10. Determination

**Fighting Through The Reflections**

Chapter 10

**Determination**

XXX

The light was so bright I'd had to shut my eyes for a minute, but when I opened them again the courtroom had disappeared. "Where are we now?"

I found myself perched on a metal beam way up high in the ceiling of an auditorium, the kind that hold spotlights and stuff, like what they use in plays and dances. I swayed a bit and, panicked from the height, grabbed the nearest pole to keep from falling. Dally laughed.

"Hey moron, you can't die twice."

"Funny, Dally. Real funny. Now where are we?"

"Take a look, see for yourself."

Below us was a crowd of people, all wearing caps and gowns for graduation. Pomp and Circumstance was playing from somewhere and camera bulb flashes were going off like mad. The parade of graduating students had already begun and the principal was calling out names as the students crossed the stage.

"...Ponyboy Michael Curtis... "

Time sort of stood still for me as this moment happened. I remembered how smart he was, how Darry and me just knew he'd graduate and go on to something better, something more than what this crummy side of town offered to kids. None of us would ever say nothing to him about it, but while me and the guys had made light of how brainy he is, we all understood the rare chance he had and how hard a challenge he was facing to get out of here and make something of himself.

He was finally facing that challenge. From this point on, he was going places none of us had ever dreamed of going, and none of us could go with him. College.

But that would be tomorrow. For now, I watched as he made his way across the stage to shake hands, get his diploma, and turn his tassel. A shadow of a smile crossed his face as he descended the steps to follow the rest of the new graduates back to their seats, while somewhere in the middle of the crowd I spotted the guys, bumping knuckles and giving each other high fives. Darry had his old camera in his hand, snapping picture after picture. I regretted I'd never see the developed film. Still, this was a gift, one I didn't expect and one I'd always treasure.

"He graduated," I said with a happy, satisfied sigh.

"Like you didn't expect him to?"

"Well sure, I always expected him too. I just didn't expect to see it."

I looked over at Dal, who was gawking hard at something directly below us. Some girl was fanning herself, unzipping her graduation gown and unbuttoning some of her blouse buttons to force some air onto her skin. I'd forgotten how hot the auditorium could get, especially in June.

"Yeah... uh-huh. Whatever, Sodapop. Look at the tits on her. Damn!"

"Hey Dally, remember? You're dead."

He scowled. "Punk. Like you really needed to remind me."

"Thanks for this," I said, ignoring his scowl and turning my attention back to my brothers. "I don't know how you're doing it, but thanks."

He gave me a funny look then realized what I mean. "Aw man, shut up."

It was as close to a "you're welcome" as I'd ever get, but he understood.

XXX

"Ponyboy, stop being stubborn. Oklahoma State is right down the road."

Time had moved again. The calender nearby was on August and it was dark outside. The gang wasn't around, just my brothers, and from the looks of things they were at it again. Ponyboy was sitting on one side of the table with Darry directly across from him, the table a minefield of college pamphlets from what looked like all over the country. I groaned, another battle of tug -of- war had begun between the two.

"An hour and a half down the street, you mean, and I'm _not_ being stubborn, Darry. Maybe I don't_ want_ to go to school here. That track scholarship in Ohio is pretty good -"

"-It's too far away! You can get a good education right here in Ok-"

"-And still be stuck right here, in your way-"

"-You ain't in my way. We can save on room and board-"

"I want to go places, Darry! See things!"

"And have it cost us more in the long run. Pony, look, the opportunities are there, no one's taking them away! You'll get plenty of chances to go-"

"Like Soda had?"

A bitter silence froze them both and I had to admit, even I was shocked quiet. Darry slowly stood and looked at Pony with hard eyes.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"He never went anywhere, Darry! Not until the Army took him-" I heard the glitch in his voice and saw him swallow hard. _ Do this right, Darry,_ I begged silently.

"Sodapop was drafted, Ponyboy. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't your fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. It is what it is. That was then, this is now; and_ now _is up to you. Look, it's as simple as this: the academic scholarship will pay for more if you attend university here in Oklahoma. You're only being offered an athletic scholarship at those other schools and I don't know how I'll be able to cover the extra expenses if you go to another state.

"Easy, I'll get a job. Something part time to pay the extra expenses."

"And balance school and work? It's harder than you think kiddo, trust me. Oh _why_, Ponyboy? Why? All your resources are here! You have me, the guys, _and_ a place to stay."

"I don't need security blankets, Darry. I ain't ten."

A stalemate. I knew firsthand how pigheaded they both could be. If only I could talk, _be heard_, I could give Darry a dozen comebacks to Pony's arguments, comebacks that would turn this back in Darry's favor. Unfortunately, Darry was going to do this alone. The one he chose would lose him this battle. "Ultimately it's your decision."

He stood still a minute, waiting, but Pony didn't move. Finally, he started to turn. "I'm tired and I gotta work tomorrow, so I'm going to bed. Think about it, think hard... and let me know what you want to do by the end of the week."

The door closed behind him followed by the familiar creak of his old mattress. Pony finally moved, slowly stacking college brochures like they were dominoes each about to fall. When he was done, three stood out and I could tell by the gleam in his eye that those were the ones he liked best.

Kent State, UCLA, and Georgia Tech.

XXX

Steve stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a smoke dangling from his lips while Darry fiddled with an envelope. The bus was pulling in and others who had been waiting for it were lining up. Two-Bit stepped forward, breaking the stalemate of silence and held out his hand. "Well kid, I guess this is goodbye."

"Nah, I'll be back in a few months," Pony answered, ignoring the hand and giving Two-Bit a fast hug. "I hope you'll write me, keep me up with what's going down."

"Sure I will. Ya know, you leaving is gonna break my sister's heart."

"She'll get over it," Pony laughed, glancing at Darry who refused to look back. Instead Steve stepped forward and popped Ponyboy hard in the shoulder.

"Punk kid, you'd better do good out there, or we'll kick your ass."

Pony rubbed his shoulder. "Gotta catch me first."

"Track star," drawled Two-Bit, obviously impressed with the scholarship he'd won. "You'll wear out eventually and then, POW, we'll catch you!"

"Everybody on?" the driver of the bus called out, looking our way for riders. We were the only ones still hanging around. All the other riders were already loaded up.

"Hold up, I'm coming," Pony answered. The driver nodded and got in, a plume of black smoke came out the bus's tailpipe.

"Ponyboy," Darry started, stepping forward. Steve and Two-Bit backed off, giving them space. "You behave yourself out there, and you call me when you get in, and if you get into trouble." He slipped the envelope into a pocket inside Pony's worn jean jacket.

"What's this?"

"That's for later. Don't open it now. You gonna be okay?"

"Darry, I'll be fine," Pony smiled.

"I ain't no farther away than a phone call, you hear me?"

They locked eyes for a minute, each swimming with emotion neither wanted to name. "I hear you. And I'll be fine. Okay?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Pony chuckled softly. "No, not really."

"Love you, kid," Darry mumbled as he pulled Ponyboy into a tight hug. Pony's eyes tightened as he hugged Darry back.

"Love you too."

They let go and Pony ran to catch the bus, hopping inside just as the driver was losing his patience. I stood with the guys as the bus pulled away.

"The kid'll be fine," Two-Bit said softly.

Steve had the same sentiments. "That kid'll outdo all of us just to spite us."

Darry, I noticed, couldn't say a thing.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


End file.
